Odyssey
by Ogordemir99
Summary: Two virtual reality message boards engage in a war in this prelude to Armageddon.
1. Introduction

Introduction: Gamefaqs and the YSB  
  
The message boards of Gamefaqs were once plain, like those of any website; but with the advent of virtual reality in the Internet, everything changed.  
  
The Boards, as they were called, became alternate planes in the Gamefaqs database. Within each Board were many fields, each representing a topic. When you posted a message, you said something. To move between fields and planes, hyperlinks were utilized: portals built into the Internet to allow ease of access among sites. Every browser could create hyperlinks - if the user knew the address.  
  
When an account was created, a certain identity was assigned to the user by the System based on the username. Each user was given their own wardrobe, arsenal of weapons, and an ID card that they could use to store hyperlinks to planes, check the status of other users, and search for fields within a plane. The ID card was a rectangular screen that was sensitive to touch.  
  
Karma was the ranking of the Boards. It regulated your position in the eyes of the Administrators, it regulated your restrictions, and it regulated your priveledges. When you were modded, Karma could be removed, or your message deleted, or removed from the database. If a field were removed, all of its occupants would be sent to the Vale, in the center of the plane. It was a forest with a clearing at its core: the gateway to all of the fields.  
  
To be banned was to be removed from the Boards forever.  
  
***  
  
'Twas a normal day on the YSB.  
  
"Liek, Ameph, OMG, will you bear my children?" asked Masta Moogle, a thin man garbed in a deep black cloak that fell about him like water. In his right hand he held a flaccid rubber chicken.  
  
A tall women, whose skin was as pale as the moon, and her face as fair as the setting sun, but her complexion cold as the wind, responded by pulling out a knife from her own cloak, which was white as the early snow. "BAKA!" she cried angrily as she stabbed Masta repeatedly. "BAKA BAKA BAKA!"  
  
"Hey," interuppted Shivan, a strong man whose eyes were as red flares, and whose cloak was like blood, "Why aren't you stabbing me, Ameph? I've been a good boy."  
  
"Shiv!" shrieked another woman. Her cloak was like a wave of water as it flowed around her, clinging to her figure. It was blue, streaked with gold and emerald. Her hair was pulled back in a bun, and her face glowed with jealousy and disgust. In her right hand she held a rolling pin, and she was steadily tapping it against her left palm, as a threat. "You're cheating on me~!"  
  
"No -" protested Shivan, but he was cut off by another man.  
  
"SIGGED!"  
  
"Huh?" asked Shivan, turning to face the person, who yelled his reply.  
  
"SIGGED!"  
  
"STOP SIGGING ME IF YOU VALUE YOUR LIFE," Shivan menaced, throwing back his cloak and revealing the white mail coat beneath. From a sheath at his side, Shivan pulled forth a steel dagger, and held it forward in his left hand.  
  
"SIGG...ed?" tried the man. He was cut down in the next instant.  
  
A new voice was heard.  
  
"Mwahahahahahaha! Lucifer Duck now has another account, and I've given him the link here, and -"  
  
The man stood behind Void, another man, who wore a dark blue cloak lined with gold. His hair was brown and tassled, and his hands looked strong, but ill fitted for work. Void turned to face the pest, and drew from his cloak a silver shotgun, aiming the barrel directly at the man's head. "Ah-hem," he said as he did so, and pulled the trigger. A local flash, and metallic ringing, and the other man fell dead before him, a smoldering hole between his eyes.  
  
"You have been shot," Void told the corpse.  
  
Yep. 'Twas a normal day. 


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: The Breaking of the Wall  
  
"I decided to stir up some trouble." Nintendo Rules All declared as he opened a new field. His orange cloak was drawn about him, and his eyes peered out. A hyperlink lay floating on the field before him: it was an iridescent globe hovering above the grass, distorting images of what lay beyond. Any who touched it would be linked to where ever it led them. Written across its surface in scrolling text was its address.  
  
Shivan appeared in a flash of red. Curiosity filled him as he stepped into the hyperlink. Nintendo watched with pride as Shivan did so, but his pride was shattered once the YSBer sprang from the gate in anger.  
  
"Close that topic! NOW!" he called. His eyes were aglow, and his face was reddened. It was a mixture of boiling wrath and blistering fear.  
  
"What's wrong with it?" asked Nintendo innocently.  
  
Another user walked out. He was a man himself, with a green cloak, its hem striped with black and gold. In his face showed plain a grand sense of mischief.  
  
"FAILURE~!" he spat, eyeing Nintendo.  
  
"Burgess." Shivan said, "I wouldn't count that as failure."  
  
"I would," Burgess said.  
  
***  
  
"Why don't you come to the YSB?" Nintendo taunted the WWESB. He was in a different plane now, and the fields were nearly empty, save for a few lost souls. "Oh yeah. You don't have the link."  
  
"They do now!" teased Sniper. He wore no cloak. Clothing him was a black tunic. He drew his ID card from a pouch at his side and held it before him. Pressing a button, another hyperlink appeared: inscribed upon it was the address of the Vale - in the YSB.  
  
"ZING~!" Burgess said.  
  
***  
  
Anger welled upon slowly from within the YSB. Shivan was in a rage. Standing with him was the unfortunate Nintendo Rules All.  
  
"Someone will post the link," he was saying, "and then the n00bs at the WWESB will come here freely."  
  
The YSB was a sealed plane: that is, no hyperlinks on the main page of Gamefaqs led to it. It was in no board listing. The only way to reach it was to obtain its address from somewhere and direct your browser to its location.  
  
Sniper emerged from the link.  
  
"Looks like we've got a problem," he taunted. "It seems they really do have a link. Want me to show you?"  
  
Shivan's face drained of blood. Nintendo thought for a moment. "Ouch," realized Nintendo. "But it wasn't my fault, it was -"  
  
"If Sniper hadn't done it," Burgess said, "I would've, out of spite."  
  
"The time is short then," Shivan said.  
  
"It's like a soap opera from hell then," Sniper said.  
  
".Nah," Burgess commented. Shivan glared at them.  
  
"I was making a speech here, people."  
  
"Oh yes, continue," Burgess said.  
  
Shivan resumed. "We must find a way to KILL Saddam and -"  
  
"Aren't we talking about my topic?" Nintendo corrected.  
  
"Oh yeah, right," Shivan acknowledged. "As I was saying. We must defend the YSB!"  
  
"To the Batmobile~!" Burgess cried. 


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: A Decision  
  
By now a crowd had assembled in the field. Ameph and Celtic Guardian, among others, could be distinguished from the rest of the mass.  
  
"There is only one thing we can do now." Shivan addressed to the crowd.  
  
"Buy NASDAQ?" suggested a man in the back.  
  
".Nah," Burgess said. Then to Shivan: "Go on."  
  
"Right. Well."  
  
"Well what?" Sniper asked. He was growing impatient. He wanted some action. He wanted some blood. He wanted to see some hooters.  
  
"I must go to the WWESB. And prevent disaster," Shivan resolved. "But in case I fail. We must build an army. Who here is short and annoying and fit to rouse our warriors?"  
  
"Crazyace!" shouted Burgess.  
  
"No, he's not short enough," Shivan countered.  
  
"Ogordemir?" offered Sniper.  
  
"No, he's not in this fic," countered Shivan once more.  
  
"Oh for crying out loud," said Moogle, who was in the crowd of onlookers, "I'll do it. And then I'll hit you all with Mr. Rubber Chicken."  
  
"Deal," Shivan said. "Sniper, I have a special request for you." He motioned for Sniper to come closer, and then whispered something in his ear. Sniper nodded in agreement, and then disappeared, logging off.  
  
"It's settled then," Shivan proclaimed. "I am going. Burgess, will you accompany me?"  
  
"Hell, why not, I've still got five good minutes left in these shoes."  
  
"Oh, do be careful," said a woman from the crowd. She wore not a cloak but a black dress, and around her neck was a golden bracelet. Silver locks of hair played at the sides of a rounded face. Her eyes were darkened by worry.  
  
"I will, Rabid. I will," Shivan assured her. She came up and hugged him, and as she was parting, Celtic slapped her.  
  
"How many times do I have to tell you? He's MY husband! MINE!"  
  
"Would you like to borrow my knife?" Ameph offered.  
  
"Nah," Celtic refused. "My rolling pin works juuuuuuust fine."  
  
"Well," Shivan said, returning to the task at hand. "We must go! Ta-ta, my beautiful wife."  
  
He stepped into the hyperlink and vanished, and as he did so, Celtic stuck out her tongue at Rabid.  
  
"I best be going to," Burgess said. "We all know that Shivan would be lost without me, eh?"  
  
There was silence.  
  
"**** you."  
  
He too stepped into the hyperlink and vanished. 


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Templarle  
  
"So." Moogle asked Ameph. "What am I supposed to do again?"  
  
Ameph frowned.  
  
"You're supposed to go round up the YSB's warriors," Ameph related, her voice thick with irritation.  
  
"Oh yeah!" Moogle realized. Then he said: "OK. And, um, Ameph? No hard feelings about the baby thing, right?"  
  
Ameph raised her knife in response.  
  
".Gotcha," Moogle said as he disappeared.  
  
***  
  
A small, shadowy woman stood on a hilltop and looked out upon the field. Her gray cloak was blown back by an unfelt wind, and beneath it was a red dress, the collar decorated with gold. Her thin white hair deserted her face in the force of the wind, but her tanned skin and blue eyes stood strong in isolation. Her name was Mystical Sand, and her visage reflected it.  
  
Below her was a congregation of some of the YSB's most famed users. There was Templarle with a golden crown and scepter, whose deep eyes were white, and whose black cloak was cast away, revealing a mantle of sapphire that shone in the sunlight.  
  
There was Masta Asia, a small man with wispy red hair. His cloak was drawn tightly about him, and it was black: like a coat of ink upon his figure.  
  
Another in a glossy, dark green cloak stood there as well, his brown hair a tangled mess, his eyes an invitation. Kenri, he was, and he stood with such pride that those who looked upon him would deem him a king, though he wore no crown.  
  
Along with them was Brownsound, the tallest of them, and the most relaxed. His brown cloak played about his feet, as his fingers kneaded his own collar, where a silver necklace hung. His eyes were brown as well, as was his hair; but through all the plainness there was a glint of unconformity that none could distinguish plainly.  
  
They stood in a circle, and Moogle appeared in the center, surprising them at first. A small murmur and whisper of distaste passed through them, but Templarle dismissed it.  
  
"What is it Moogle?" he asked.  
  
"Shivan has ordered that everyone prepare for battle. It seems Nintendo Rules All made a booboo. I'll have to have Mr. Rubber Chicken punish him later."  
  
Templarle looked to Brownsound beside him, who shrugged. "What kind of 'booboo'?"  
  
"Oh, he just gave everyone in the WWESB the link to the Vale."  
  
"He did what?" Masta asked. There was a flurry, and a scream of wind, and then Mysty appeared next to Moogle.  
  
"I'll kill him," she volunteered.  
  
"We have better things to do," Templarle said. He took command with the swiftest and sternest of graces. "Where is Shivan now?"  
  
"He's in the WWESB, doing something. Or other."  
  
"Is he making a treaty?" Brownsound suggested.  
  
"Hey," Moogle said. "I only knows what they tells me."  
  
Templarle frowned, and then said: "The next time you plan on saying something stupid, at least use correct grammar. As for the WWESB."  
  
He took his scepter before him, and laid his hand atop the huge ruby that glowed at its end. Words came into being at his touch: it was his ID card.  
  
"I will go assist them, then," he said, and was gone the next instant.  
  
"Sure knows how to make an exit, doesn't he?" Kenri said, breaking his silence. "Hey Myst, this'll be like old times, eh?"  
  
"No," she said, flinging her cloak back into his face.  
  
"So what do we do now?" Moogle asked.  
  
"We arm ourselves," Masta replied. "We cannot waste time."  
  
He threw a rock at Moogle, cried, "UNDEFEATED!" and then he, too disappeared.  
  
"He's so dramatic," Brownsound observed.  
  
"He's right," Myst said. She took command now. "Moogle, it will be your job to muster the army. When Shivan and Templarle return, I will call a meeting at the Vale. Be quick! Time is not our ally. Already the WWESB could have gathered an army fit to destroy even the most powerful of Boards."  
  
".Gotcha," Moogle said, who didn't really 'get' anything. He disappeared.  
  
"So, Myst," Kenri tried again. "This time thing. What're the chances that it comes with a bed?" 


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Crazyace  
  
"Of all places in the YSB," Moogle said as he appeared in a field entitled 'Post here to get raped!', "I had to be sent here."  
  
"Of course you did, Moogle," Void said, walking up to him and pulling out a gun. "Now. Would you rather be violated. Or shot?"  
  
"Actually," he said, backing away, "I bear news."  
  
"What kind of news?" asked a squat man. He was clothed only from the waist down, and his skin was painted yellow and black. Insanity tore at the edges of his eyes, but deep within wisdom lurked, blanketing him in a veil of sovereignty. His brown hair was a contrast to the rest of his body; he carried a spear with a steel point like a bayonet.  
  
"Well, Crazyace," Moogle continued. "Shivan has called for us to muster our forces for teh battle."  
  
"Are you sure he didn't mean 'the' battle, Moogle?" Void teased.  
  
"Mr. Rubber Chicken is hungry."  
  
".That's. Nice," Crazyace commented.  
  
"Anyway," Moogle continued, "get off your lazy asses -"  
  
"Or out of other peoples'," Void noted.  
  
"- And get some weapons. NOW." Moogle was gone once more, off to complete his errand.  
  
"I got some guns," Void said.  
  
Another YSBer walked into the topic and stood before Crazyace and Void. His cloak was blue and red, melded together in harmonious union. Upon his head holding his red hair was a band of gold: inscribed upon it were words of ancient origin. It was a relic from another time, when the YSB was young. In his hand he held a sturdy glass longsword. A fire burned within it, catching the glint of his gray eyes.  
  
"What's going on?" he asked.  
  
"Nothing Magna," Crazyace said. "Just some war stuff."  
  
"War? Again? With who?"  
  
"Beats the **** out of us," Void said. "All we know is that we have to have killing devices."  
  
"You mean weapons?" Crazyace asked.  
  
"No. Killing devices."  
  
"Well, I got this sword right here."  
  
"And I've got a multitude of guns," Void said, "and let's not forget my little pet here."  
  
"Too much information, Void," Crazyace interrupted.  
  
"What do you have, Ace?" Magna asked.  
  
"I got me my horde of rabid squirrels," Crazyace responded flatly.  
  
"Since when are they rabid?" Void inquired.  
  
"Since they did your mom."  
  
"Ouch, Ace, Void, let's leave the burning to our killing devices, K?" Magna resolved.  
  
"Stop calling them that!" Crazyace warned.  
  
"Then what do you want us to call them?" Void asked. "Muffin?"  
  
"Precisely," Crazyace decided.  
  
"Well," Magna said, "Muffin here wants some action."  
  
"That's just wrong," Void said.  
  
"Precisely," Crazyace remarked.  
  
".Is that some kind of fetish of yours?" Void asked him. "Precisely?"  
  
"Yeah, I hit it."  
  
Magna and Void exchanged knowing looks.  
  
"Fine then," Crazyace said. "Keep me out of the 'loop'. I have to go tend to my squirrels anyway. Ta-ta."  
  
He disappeared.  
  
"Someone should give him a doggy bone," Magna said.  
  
"Or a muffin," Void elaborated. 


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter 5: Poochy  
  
"God," Moogle said, walking through a field. A myriad of pillows were thrown haphazardly in random arrangements. Fortifications took form, and then fell into a disorganized heap on the earth. "If Shivan ever gets back alive, I'm gonna kill him."  
  
"And who are you?" asked a deep voice from far off.  
  
Moogle stopped walking. "It's Moogle, Poochy, now get your ass out here."  
  
".Why?"  
  
"Because I'll give you sum buttseckz."  
  
"Sounds good like a plan."  
  
Out from behind a mountain of pillows at Moogle's side appeared a man in a violet cloak that rippled in the unseen wind. His hair was violet as well, and his eyes black: upon his chest he wore a golden aegis, streaked with red and black, emblems of fire and shadow. His face looked longingly at Moogle, but it was not desperate. He was simply playing along.  
  
"Where's my buttseckz, f00?"  
  
"Up yours."  
  
"How lame."  
  
"I'm really here because."  
  
He stopped when he heard a rustling from behind another mound of pillows not far off.  
  
"Who's that?" Poochy called.  
  
"I'm Tadpole," said a voice, and another man stepped out from behind a pile of pillows. His cloak was turquoise, his hair blue, his eyes and emerald green. He looked bored as he walked up and joined Poochy and Moogle.  
  
"Is anyone else here?" Moogle shouted. "Or can I start ranting already?"  
  
"I'm here!" confirmed another voice. Moogle frowned. From behind another pile beside them, Randomcookie stepped out, his black-and-white cloak flailing about him. His hair was brown, his eyes white, and his smile grand. Ever was he mirthful, even in times of strife.  
  
"Y'all better get your asses together," Moogle said, "and grab some weapons. Shivan said so."  
  
"What for?" the other three asked in unison.  
  
"Looks like there's going to be a little war soon. But that's all I'm going to tell you."  
  
Tadpole, his mind always planning, asked: "How many others are you getting?"  
  
"Just the YSB elite, or at least some of them."  
  
"But if we're going to war," Tadpole protested, "isn't that a crummy force?"  
  
"You're right," Moogle said. "But I don't care."  
  
Tadpole and Randomcookie exchanged looks. Poochy thought.  
  
"I think," Poochy concluded, "that I can round up some people."  
  
"Good!" Randomcookie said. "So can I."  
  
"Do as you wish," Moogle said. "It's not my problem. But you three had better get yourselves some. Non-pillow weaponry."  
  
"What's wrong with my pillows?" Poochy defended.  
  
"What're you going to do? Throw them?" Moogle inquired.  
  
".Shaddap," Poochy replied.  
  
"I got me some cookies," Randomcookie said. "Get it? Cookies?"  
  
Moogle frowned again. "I. Don't. Care. Got that? Good. Now-"  
  
A horn boomed and hollered some ways away, cutting Moogle off. Its deep call echoed and reflected off of the many fields in the YSB, so that all could hear it, and they were compelled to obey. A meeting was being called in the Vale. Shivan had returned. 


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter 6: The WWESB  
  
"So." Burgess asked, "What're the chances we're gonna kick the old bucket?"  
  
They stood side by side looking over towards the center of the field, where a large group of WWESBers, The Council, stood chattering profusely. Each was cloaked and hooded in black, except for one.  
  
"Pretty good," Shivan said, spitting.  
  
"And what happens when we die, again?"  
  
"Simple. We're unable to log in for an hour while they system restores our data. If you die too much, they ban you."  
  
"What if you kill too much?"  
  
"They give you money."  
  
"That's ****ed."  
  
"You said it."  
  
Shivan raised his hand and waved it, calling: "Hey there! n00bs! I got some dictionaries here!"  
  
The Council stopped talking and looked towards where they stood. Then they looked at one another, and parted, created a long column between two rows of users. At the end of that column, directly before Shiv and Burgess, stood a man in a blue cloak. His hood was drawn back, and his unkempt blue hair streamed down to his shoulders. His face looked cruel but stupid. His eyes were blue as well. They squinted at the YSBers.  
  
"Who goes there?" he asked Shiv. "And what the Hell d'you want?"  
  
"You don't sound like a WWESBer," Burgess commented. Shivan silenced him. "We're from the YSB. That's our link you're standing on."  
  
"Really?" said the man, walking up to both Burgess and Shivan. "And what would you want from us?"  
  
"We want a treaty."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Look," Shivan growled, "I did not come here to spar words with a moron -"  
  
"You mean moron," Burgess corrected.  
  
"Right. As I was saying. Who's j00r daddy?"  
  
"My. Daddy?" the man inquired.  
  
"He means, 'Who runs this hell hole?'" Burgess translated.  
  
"Thank you," Shivan said.  
  
"Why, I do," the man said. "And it is no hell hole. I am Wave."  
  
"Funny," Burgess said. "I never heard of you."  
  
"That's because Ogor doesn't want to get PWNED for flaming," Wave said. "And he was low on LSD."  
  
".Right," Shivan said. "So, how's about we put our pasts behind us and be friends? I'll give you a dictionary."  
  
"You fool!" Wave shouted. "No one makes treaties with me! Treaties are for squares! In my world, we kill."  
  
"So you're from Florida?" Burgess asked.  
  
".No," Wave denied. He didn't get it. He was from Saskatchewan.  
  
"Well, what use is killing when we can mark you for board invasion?" Shivan taunted.  
  
"I'd like to see you try," Wave challenged. He reached into his cloak. There was a scrape of steal, and the sound of a sword drawing. Out it came, gleaming in the artificial sun: a blue blade with a black hilt and white pommel.  
  
"That's hideous," Burgess said.  
  
"Let's put your ass where your mouth is," Wave threatened. At that moment there was another ring of steel, and a scream before a crash on the earth: behind them a man had thrown back his cloak, revealing a fair face and crown. In his right hand was raised a blade, in his left his scepter. At his side was a crumpled black figure.  
  
Wave, Burgess, and Shivan turned, and Shivan wondered aloud: "Templarle?"  
  
"Flee!" he yelled. "I will hold them. Back to the YSB!"  
  
"No!" Wave shrieked. He turned and lunged at Shivan, who jumped to the side. Templarle was already at work with the Council, slaying them as they swarmed around him. Burgess watched.  
  
"Um." he said. "Good job?"  
  
There was another ring as Shivan drew his own blade: sharp as a razor, and as hard as a diamond, the metal shone with red as the sun hit it.  
  
"Burgess," he called. "Go. NOW!"  
  
".Nah," Burgess said. "I gotta see this."  
  
"Fine," Shivan said. "Have it your way." He lunged at Wave, who stood before him. The WWESB's Captain dodged the strike and smote Shivan across the side, throwing him to the ground.  
  
"Who's j00r daddy now, f00?" Wave mocked, towering over Shivan's body, his sword pointed at his chest, ready for the kill.  
  
"I AM!" was the response. It did not come from Shivan, but elsewhere; and it was loud, like the voice of a God.  
  
There was a whirling strike from a spear. Wave ducked. It narrowly missed his neck, grazing the top of his tasseled hair. He turned to meet his attacker.  
  
"What.?"  
  
There was Crazyace, his spear pointed directly at Wave's forehead.  
  
"Leave," Ace commanded. "Or your brains'll be all over this thing."  
  
Wave looked on in dismay. Shivan rose from the earth at his feet, and stuck the point of his sword into Wave's back. The Council ceased their struggle against Templarle, and he tossed them aside solemnly.  
  
Wave's eyes shrank in his head. He tried to turn his head, but was warned with a sharp prod from Shivan. Suddenly, Burgess came up, brandishing a gray folding chair. He pushed Wave over and slammed it over his head. The Council fled in terror of his wrath.  
  
"Thank you, Ace," Shivan said. Templarle ran up to join them.  
  
"What do we do now?" he asked. "They will return with reinforcements. We could get marked for board invasion if we continue to stay here."  
  
"**** them," Burgess said. "We better get our asses out of here."  
  
"Good idea," Shivan said. "Templarle, we need a favor."  
  
"Yes?" he asked.  
  
"We need you to stay here. See if you can find a Mod to delete this field."  
  
"OK."  
  
"I'll stay with him too," Crazy said. "Afterall, everyone can use a God now and then."  
  
Burgess and Shivan exchanged looks as they faded into the YSB. 


	8. Chapter 7

Chapter 7: Nikore  
  
"Welcome everyone," Shivan said to the collected YSB. They were all on one side of the Vale. He, Burgess, and Mystical Sand were on the other side, standing on raised ground. "We have some important matters to discuss."  
  
The assembled chatted amongst themselves.  
  
There was xp. He wore an old blue cloak, its hood striped with slivers of green. His hair was black, and his face pale. His eyes bore no color within them, but seemed to glow: beacons of fire symbolizing great strength of heart and mind.  
  
Then there was Mega Sonic. He wore a suit of red armor colored by the insignias of foreign places. His helm was coned, and its tip was beaten back as if by the hammer of a forge. Fragments of his white hair hung on his forehead, shadowing his green eyes. There was some strength in those eyes, a slow-kindled might awaiting its chance to be released.  
  
Along with those, there were others. All that Masta Moogle had assembled were gathered, in addition to Ameph and Celtic. Many more were there. Some were not natives of the YSB.  
  
"The treaty has not been written," Shivan announced sadly.  
  
There was a groan from the crowd.  
  
"And there is no complementary bar," Burgess announced happily.  
  
There was another groan, and a few of the gathered users left the Vale.  
  
"Now, I have left Crazyace and Templarle at the scene, so that they might delete the message."  
  
"What about those who already have it saved?" xp asked.  
  
"Please," Burgess said. "Try to think here. They're from the WWESB. Do you think they know how to save?"  
  
"Oh yeah," xp said. "I forgot who we're dealing with."  
  
"I have sent Sniper on a very important errand. Is he here?" Shivan asked. Sniper stepped forth from the crowd and climbed to the stage. He took one look at Shivan, and then walked to the center of the stage and turned to face the crowd.  
  
"Sniper?" Mysty asked.  
  
But it was no longer Sniper. Where once was a plain man in a tunic, there was now something more. He wore a great robe of gold and silver threads, folded upon itself at the shoulders, which were crowned with a pronged mantle. His face was stern and mirthful, as Burgess', only more malevolent. A crown stood atop his head, ringing his silver hair: it was golden and with seven prongs, two tall spikes on the side and one in the center, the other four split between them. From the heavens came a kind light shining upon his shoulders. He spoke with an echo in his voice.  
  
"I am Nikore," he said.  
  
"Nikore?" Everyone wondered.  
  
"Yes," he said. "Thank you for affirming your lack of deafness. I have come now to make one final decree. You are to prepare for war. Under Shivan the Red."  
  
"That's a lame title," Shivan protested.  
  
"Shaddap," Nikore warned. "Now, anyone want to ignore me?"  
  
"I du ur magesti," said someone from the crowd.  
  
"I'm afraid your post was JUST below understandable," Nikore said. "Would you care to try again?"  
  
The crowd was silent.  
  
"Damn, you people need beer or something."  
  
He stepped from the stage and walked through the crowd. It parted in his wake. Shivan looked on as Burgess and Myst followed Nikore to the edge of the clearing.  
  
"Follow Shivan," Nikore said. "Or I will kill you."  
  
As he disappeared one last time, the crowd turned as one to Shivan, who stood rigidly. Awe was in their eyes.  
  
"Shivan," said Mega Sonic. "D'you know how to carry a sword?"  
  
"Yes," Shivan said. "But I'm not all that good."  
  
"You're hired," Burgess snapped. "Get leading. NOW~!" 


	9. Chapter 8

Chapter 8: The First Wave Advances  
  
"Firstly," Shivan said from the stage. "I must choose who will command my mighty army!"  
  
"Army?" asked Burgess. "Where?"  
  
"That too," Shivan remarked. "Now. Burgess, Magna, Void, and Mysty: you're the Captains."  
  
They stepped up beside him.  
  
"What about me?" Celtic asked.  
  
"You can watch," Burgess said.  
  
"You want to be a Captain?" Shivan asked her, ignoring Burgess.  
  
"Um. Duh."  
  
"Fine then. D'you have a weapon?"  
  
".Not currently."  
  
"Shivan, I doubt half of the YSBers have a weapon," Magna pointed out.  
  
"I bet they do," Shivan said. "Fine, you're a Captain Celtic. But if you get hurt, I will kill you in your sleep."  
  
".How does that work?" Burgess asked.  
  
"Beats me," Shivan said.  
  
"Don't we need a sign or something," Mysty asked as Celtic joined the other Captains, "to mark us as Captains?"  
  
"Who here makes funny hats?" Burgess shouted. Everyone looked at each other.  
  
"We'll figure that out later," Shivan said. "Crazyace and Temp are Captains too, once they get back from their errand."  
  
"I say we give them a new errand," Burgess said.  
  
"And what would that be?" Shivan asked.  
  
"Learning to walk."  
  
Burgess pointed to where two figures stumbled through the crowd in great haste, pushing people aside as they limped. When they noticed that Shivan's eyes were upon them, they shouted desperately: "The WWESBers are coming!"  
  
"Cliché," Burgess said. "But I'll let it slide."  
  
"Crazyace, Templarle -" Shivan began. He was cut off by gunshots.  
  
***  
  
"What do we do now?" Crazyace asked.  
  
"Wait a second," Temp said. He took out his ID card.  
  
"What the Hell're you doing?" Crazyace asked.  
  
"I'm loading AIM."  
  
"With your ID card?"  
  
"No. My ass."  
  
".OK then."  
  
Templarle fumbled with it for awhile. Crazyace leaned on his pike and watched.  
  
Finally, Temp looked up. "I got Raptor to come."  
  
There was a flash of lightning and a roll of thunder.  
  
"."  
  
"."  
  
Then both looked towards the edge of the field. A clumsy looking man stumbled up to meet them, cloaked and hooded in violet, with really, really, ugly brown shoes.  
  
"Duel me!" he said as he walked up to Templarle. "NOW!"  
  
"OK," Temp said. In one swift motion he drew his sword and shoved it into the man's stomach. He collapsed into the ground. Temp turned to Crazyace.  
  
"Show off," Crazyace said.  
  
"He asked to duel," Temp protested. "It's not my fault he didn't have a sword."  
  
There was a beating of drums.  
  
"Who called a Mod this time?" Crazyace wondered aloud.  
  
"No one," Templarle said with a flat voice. "Look."  
  
Marching towards them from the edge of the field was an army. Each soldier was dressed as the man Templarle killed was. Their hoods hid their faces and veiled their bodies. In the front lines, each soldier held a deck of cards flat in their right hand. Behind them, warriors carried bows, guns, swords, and all other weapons conceivable. Five standards waved in the breeze, each of the same design: a gilded 'W' upon a blanket of black.  
  
"They carry cards?" Templarle asked.  
  
"The first must've been from the front lines," Crazyace observed.  
  
"But Raptor won't be here for another fifteen minutes."  
  
"We must make a stand."  
  
"And do what? Kill ourselves?"  
  
"If that's what you want."  
  
Then the archers in the second rank raised their bows and launched a single round of arrows.  
  
"Not good," Templarle said.  
  
"Let's get our asses out of here," Crazyace decided. They turned tail and began to run. The deadly shafts were slicing through the air.  
  
The hyperlink to the Vale was only a few paces away. As they dived through, the arrows struck their legs, cutting deep gashes into the flesh.  
  
The first wave was advancing. War was upon the YSB. 


	10. Chapter 9

Chapter 9: A Fruity Plan  
  
"Where the Hell is Void?" Shivan pondered, casting his eyes about.  
  
There was another gunshot and a scream.  
  
"Isn't it obvious?" Magna said. "He's picking off n00bs."  
  
Void came running out of the forest, shouting wildly.  
  
"There's too many," he cried. "I don't wanna waste my bullets."  
  
Shivan frowned.  
  
"OK people!" he declared. "Get your asses mobilized! Grab some sticks, or something!"  
  
Celtic untied her hair and let it fall beautifully on her shoulders. In her right hand was her faithful rolling pin. Shivan walked up and put his hand on hers.  
  
"Honey," he said, "you aren't going to get far with a rolling pin."  
  
"Try me," she said defiantly.  
  
Magna unsheathed his sword and held it in the sun. Light refracting within its glass blade, and it appeared that a red flare kindled within.  
  
Burgess took out his chair from. Somewhere. No one was quite sure how he got it.  
  
Mysty reached into her cloak and removed a bone-handled steel knife.  
  
"Alright everyone," Burgess said. "Let's kick some ****ing ass, shall we?"  
  
".Eww," was the collective reply.  
  
***  
  
In the melee below the stage there were two calm men. One was cloaked in blue. There were scarlet strips in the cloth of his cloak, and at their edges was a sliver of black. His hair was a toss of black and white, and in his strong face burned keen blue eyes.  
  
"Listen," Infernal said, "we need guns."  
  
He was speaking to a man whose cloak was brightly colored, and whose long orange hair was thrown back so as to not hide a gleeful face. Around his head there was a band of obsidian twisted expertly into intricate designs.  
  
"So?" Emperor Pie asked.  
  
"You have pies."  
  
"Flaming pies."  
  
Infernal slapped himself in the forehead.  
  
"All I gotta do is light them on fire," Emperor Pie said. "Then those WWESB suckers won't know what hit 'em."  
  
"Pie is what hit 'em," Infernal countered.  
  
"Do you got any fire or not?"  
  
"It just so happens," Infernal said, "that I do." Indeed he did. Beside him was a pile of thick, broken tree boughs. In his left hand he held a lighter.  
  
He took a bough, lit it, and tossed the brand to Emperor. Emperor then took one of his pies from a wheelbarrow beside him and lit it on fire.  
  
"It's strawberry," he said.  
  
In one powerful motion he hurled the pie into the air. Fire and smoke trailed after it as it burned.  
  
It fell somewhere in the forest. The dismay of their enemies was heard throughout the clearing, and YSBers rushed to Emperor and Infernal's side, taking pies and brands and assisting in the defense. Soon the Vale was afire.  
  
Shivan walked to Infernal's side.  
  
"Nice job there," he said.  
  
"Always bring a few clubs along with you to major riots," Infernal responded nonchalantly. "It helps break the ice."  
  
"What about me?" Emperor asked as he grabbed another pie (Playboy flavor). "I'm the guy who brought the pies."  
  
"Yeah," Shivan said. "You're also the guy who's splooging on his hand." 


	11. Chapter 10

Chapter 10: Thwarted  
  
The forest was afire. Twigs snapped and crashed to the ground amid smoke and pain. WWESBers screamed out from behind the shroud of trees.  
  
"Looks like we've won," Infernal told Shivan.  
  
"Where are Temp and Ace?" Shivan asked, looking about.  
  
"We're here," Crazyace said as he limped up beside Shivan. Templarle, too, was limping; but in his hands he grasped his ID card. He was staring at it intensely.  
  
"Raptor has refused to come," he informed those around him, still staring at his card. "He also refused to mod the WWESBers for board invasion."  
  
"Whos-its?" asked Shivan.  
  
Temp looked up from his card at last.  
  
"We're alone."  
  
"But we've already won," whined Pie. "They're all dead by now."  
  
"WRONG~!" Burgess said, appearing from no where. "Take a peak."  
  
He pointed towards the forest, and the gathered followed his gaze. There in the fires were dark figures, crouching in the shadow of the flickering flames.  
  
"Whos-its?" Shivan repeated.  
  
Suddenly, from within the bowels of the forest leaped dark streaks into the air: black darts, poisoned with the inky venom of stupidity.  
  
"****," Crazyace said, expressing everyone's feelings at the moment.  
  
Xp walked up beside Pie.  
  
".And the plot thickens!"  
  
The YSBers stared up at the arching weapons and then turned to flee. Wildly they ran to the stage and stood there, steadfast. Few were stricken by the deadly hail, and most of the darts clattered harmlessly into the grass of the clearing.  
  
The YSBers regrouped, and Shivan took his place in the lead. He turned to face the forest.  
  
The figures that had hidden beneath the flames sprang to live, leaping from the forest and charging straight towards the stage. Swords caught the light and glittered in their hands. Guns were drawn. A single black banner flapped ominously in the air.  
  
"Comrades!" Shivan spoke, raising his sword in the air. "We come now to the first battle in this war! Fear not death, for it is short! Fight with valiance against the black tide! The YSB is your home. DEFEND IT!"  
  
He gave a loud shout as he himself leapt from the stage, running madly across the field towards the nearest WWESBer. As he did so, it seemed the light took a liking to him, and shone upon his back: his flittering cloak and brave longsword gleaming in righteous anger. As he ran a war cry broke through the YSBers like a wave, and they sprang to life as one, charging against the WWESBers.  
  
The Vale yet burned. Its people would not let that fire die. 


	12. Chapter 11

Chapter 11: Assassin's Arrow  
  
Shivan crashed into the first WWESBer and smote him to the ground. Behind him, the YSBers came like a flood, crying out in vindictive rage as they did so.  
  
Shots rang out. Some YSBers fell, their bodies trampled. WWESBers fell in masses from the skill YSB's elite gunmen, led by Void and Temp.  
  
Then they met, and there was a fire of passions: the YSBers were aroused by their leader's fury, and the WWESBers were dismayed at the fierceness of the defense. Many fell and were trampled in the attack.  
  
Then a YSBer met the standard-bearer in the charge. Driger, dressed and hooded in a black cloak inlaid with a ghostly white silk, hewed the staff and impaled its bearer. Those in the YSB's horde that witnessed the banner falling gave a cheer and continued their charge.  
  
The fire in the trees had done little to aid them, as more WWESBers poured out. Some bows sang among them, but the haunting terror of their melody was lost in the ferocity of Shivan's resolve. The darts missed their targets and clattered uselessly onto the trampled earth.  
  
There was one weapon of the enemy the YSBers were not prepared to face. Fire-tipped pikes packed the emerging ranks. They waved in threat.  
  
Shivan saw them first, and from the head of the charge he called back in absolute command.  
  
"Void! Ready the guns!"  
  
But it was not gunfire that answered his order, but bowstrings. At least fifty released white arrows of the YSB, and they plunged into enemy ranks like a blizzard. Pikes were dropped on other WWESBers who went mad from the fire.  
  
Still there more. They continued to advance until they met the YSBers head- on. Guns could not compete with wildfire, and it spread throughout the packed horde.  
  
"Break away!" Shivan called. His army heard him and dispersed, but it was no good for him. An arrow lit afire cut the air before him and lodged itself in his neck, severing his jugular. His sword slipped from his hand as he fell.  
  
Shivan had been killed. Two yards away stood Wave, his bow still drawn before him, a wicked smile on his stupid face. 


	13. Chapter 12

Chapter 12: The Rose Duelist  
  
Wave's grin soon faded. A figure ran up to Shivan's fallen form: Celtic, bow drawn. She stood up above him, not as a weak woman would kneel and cry, but as a strong one, aching for vengeance over her lost love. She trembled with fury, and when she spoke, her voice shook with sorrow and tremendous rage.  
  
"I will kill you for that!" she yelled. Her cloak shivered at her feet.  
  
"You cannot kill me," Wave replied, lowering his bow. "No one can kill me."  
  
"We will see about that," Celtic said. She took two arrows from a white quiver on her back and set them both on her bow. The string was drawn taught. The arrow-tips glistened. "You will die!"  
  
"FOOL! Try to kill me."  
  
There was no sound as the two arrows flew from Celtic's bow, severing the air and slamming into Wave's chest. They bounced back and fell to the earth.  
  
Wave dropped his bow as Celtic looked on in dismay. It was not anger now that filled her eyes, but fear: fear, and sorrow.  
  
Wave spoke: "You will die like your husband, you filthy rat."  
  
He began his path towards Celtic, taking heavy steps. As he did so, he released sword from scabbard with a clang. His speed was incredible. Celtic attempted to load another arrow, but Wave reached her too quickly. With one blow of his sword, he smote her to the earth. She was disarmed, lying on her back, Wave bearing down on her, sword at the ready.  
  
Her fingers graced a pommel at her side. There lay Shivan's sword. Ever so stealthily, she pulled it towards her, until she could clutch its grip. Wave began to speak again.  
  
"No," he said. "I will not kill you. I have much better plans for you, cutie."  
  
He began to reach for her with his free hand.  
  
"No!" she cried out in defiance. She took Shivan's blade and plunged it into Wave's chest as he fell on her, breaking armor with the incredible force of the blow. He went limp for a moment, and the sword was stuck. Then some tissue in his body gave way, and the sword plunged deeper. As he was dying, Celtic spoke.  
  
"There is only one who may touch me."  
  
She threw the carcass off of her, stood, and removed the sword. She looked at the bloodied blade, and then at the melee around her. WWESB archers had begun to use fire-tipped arrows. The YSBers' cloaks would be caught in flame, and the fire would spread. Most were driven mad.  
  
"It's a pity," Celtic said under her breath, "that Wave did not live to see his victory."  
  
But there was a call! A horn blew in sweet melody in the keep of the forest. Then there were voices and song. A fair song it was, and Celtic wondered at who produced it. She was certain it was none that could aid them. The time was too dark and the hour too late. It would be an enemy to speed their defeat. She would fight to the end.  
  
Then there was a trampling of hooves, and from the forest emerged a force of horsemen. At their fore was a man that wore no cloak. A beautiful cape flapped behind him in the wind. Violet and red were his colors, and they showed all about him. His hair was a dark green. His pale eyes were set. He was playful in his urgency, but stood firm and strong atop a white mare. The others in his party were cloaked and hooded by violet cloth. They rode brown steeds.  
  
"I am the Rose Duelist!" he said as he came on, spotting Celtic and assuming her the leader of the defense. "I have come from other realms with a mighty army! We have heard your call. We come to defend the Vale!" 


	14. Chapter 13

Chapter 13: Defenders of the Vale  
  
It was a storm that The Rose Duelist and his comrades marshaled and unleashed upon the WWESBers. They brought bows and pikes. The Rose Duelist himself wielded a fine sword crafted from platinum; its guard was in the likeness of a rose in honor of his username.  
  
But it was not their weapons that caused such a turn. The thundering of their arrival rekindled the fury of the YSBers and drove from them the madness of fear. Doubt deserted their hearts. It was replace with strong burning that could not be extinguished by either death or pain.  
  
Celtic turned as The Rose Duelist reached her and ran alongside him at a great speed, Shivan's sword held tightly in an outstretched arm. She pointed it forwards and skywards as she ran, and a strange feeling possessed her, so that she released a vivid war cry that further roused her inherited army.  
  
Once more the WWESBers were dismayed by the fury of the defense. No longer had they a leader to guide them, and for the first time, fear of death set into their bones. Some went insane. Standards were lit afire. Arrows went astray. They turned on each other in their madness. The organized strike was gutted and left to die.  
  
And so it did. Crazyace and Templarle, thought wounded, led a successful band of rogues into a larger archer troop and killed them all. Masta Asia and Magna effortlessly slaughtered infantry, while Mysty, Burgess, and Void skillfully led the rest of the YSB's infantry to small but mounting victories over enemy formations.  
  
What little brain was left in the WWESB's strategy was used in one final attack. They dispersed as The Rose Duelist and his horsemen crashed into the body of the battle, regrouping beside the forest. Once more the YSB and the WWESB faced off against each other.  
  
Forming a phalanx, the WWESB led one last hopeless charge into the YSB. The YSBers did not move: gunshots rang out, spears were thrown, and arrows were released. What few members of the WWESB's phalanx that survived fell to the blade.  
  
Then all was settled. A cheer erupted from the victors. Their boiling blood cooled in time, but Celtic did not join them in celebration. Instead she knelt beside the body of her husband, finally releasing her sorrow. She held him in his arms and rocked back and forth, crying.  
  
A hand settled on her shoulder. She looked up to see Ameph looking at her.  
  
"It's only temporary," Ameph assured her. "He'll be back, you know."  
  
"I know," Celtic said. "But I don't know why I cry. Is it instinct, do you think?"  
  
"Probably," Ameph said. "You must be really sensitive."  
  
"Not really," Celtic said. "I didn't think I'd cry this hard." She wiped away a stream of tears.  
  
"Hey, who's that?" Ameph asked. She was looking towards the forest. There, amid the bodies of the slain, walked a man bearing simple brown garments. They were not ornate: a sheet of cloth bound by a belt at his waste. He had a beard and long white hair, and a hood that lay slack on his back. His face looked kind and his eyes vigorous. He calmly walked up to Shivan and laid his hand on his forehead. Shivan stirred and woke.  
  
A joy filled Celtic like she had never felt before. Clutching Shivan, she cried harder than before, occasionally releasing small cries of joy between her tears. Shivan fought to escape her grasp and stood up. He looked the man straight in the eyes.  
  
"I know you." he said.  
  
"You should," the man replied in a soothing but authoritative voice.  
  
"You're."  
  
"CJayC."  
  
"Oh my." Ameph gasped.  
  
"Speak softly," CJay said. "I want not your friends to hear me."  
  
"Why do you come?" Shivan asked.  
  
"I need you to attend a meeting Shivan," he responded candidly.  
  
"A meeting of what?"  
  
"Don't be so hasty. You will see in time. Now come."  
  
He turned and began to walk. Shivan glanced at Celtic, gave her a quick kiss on her tearstained cheek, and turned to leave.  
  
"Don't wait up," he said. 


	15. Chapter 14

Chapter 14: Aftermath I  
  
Burgess, Templarle, Masta Asia, Void, Magna, and Myst were standing together in the clearing, watching other YSBers douse the fire in the Vale. The Rose Duelist had brought with him - though, no one knew how - several barrels of beer. Everyone had some, even though it was tasteless and virtually nonexistent in that world. '  
  
"Look!" Magna was saying. "We get lines!"  
  
"Yeah, instead of that filler paragraph that crammed us all in there," Masta Asia added.  
  
"Hey," came a voice from behind them. Everyone turned. Mild concern was written on their faces. There was a plain man in plain cloak wearing a plain sign with "I'm Plain" written on it. "I happen to think," continued the man, "that you just whine, whine, whine, whine all the time, when Ogor here is doing you a favor in including you in his awesome, A+ fic."  
  
".And who the **** are you?" asked Burgess.  
  
"I'm Shameless Plug," he answered.  
  
Templarle pulled out his gun and repeatedly shot Shameless in the chest. He crumpled to the ground in a pool of blood.  
  
Myst took a sip of her beer. "Nice to meet you."  
  
"Hey Temp," Void complained, "that's my job."  
  
"Darn," Temp said, also sipping from his beer.  
  
***  
  
"So where are we going?" Shivan asked CJay. They were walking through the forest. The burning had stopped and there was no one in sight.  
  
"Somewhere."  
  
"Wow, you're helpful."  
  
"Keep in mind that I can ban you if you piss me off."  
  
"That reminds me: how did you revive me before an hour passed?"  
  
"I happened to be into .hack when I made this system," CJay said. "Every command is in this format: .object//COMMAND. For example, .mod//MODERATE allows a Moderator to change a message. .moderate//DELETE allows a Mod to delete a message. You see?"  
  
".Sure."  
  
"Well, these commands weren't enough. I needed a way to override the system. So, I created the .hack commands. Only an Administrator can access them. They give the power to change anything and everything."  
  
".Great."  
  
"I simply used all of the -"  
  
"That's nice."  
  
"Hey, it was your question."  
  
They exited the forest. Before them was a plane nothing like the YSB. It was an alleyway. On both sides were walls that stretched far into the heavens. They were decorated with odd symbols and sculptures, all finely crafted by skilled hands. The sky was black and angry. Rain poured onto the paved street.  
  
"Where the Hell is this?" Shivan asked, raising his voice to compete with the rain.  
  
"It is where the Meeting will be held."  
  
"The Meeting?"  
  
"Simply continue along this road and you will see what I mean. Now go! I cannot waste all my time with you."  
  
Shivan started to say something but bit his tongue as CJay disappeared into the forest. 


	16. Chapter 15

Chapter 15: The Meeting  
  
Shivan walked calmly down the alleyway. Curiosity pulled on his mind with every step. The path seemed to extend forever on into darkness. Rain pelted the ground and interrupted his thoughts.  
  
At last the monotonous scenery changed. Some three or four yards before Shivan there was a pale mist hanging low in the air. As Shivan approached, his heart beat faster, and his eyes beheld a sight: there in the mist were many cloaked figures, hooded so their faces were concealed. The rain seemed to slip off of their bodies, and in each there was a deep-seated mystery. Their robes were a dark violet and appeared to be fashioned of fine silk, for they glittered dully as water struck the cloth.  
  
"Who are you?" Shivan asked.  
  
"You know who we are." The voice seemed to come from all of them at once. It was hollow and lifeless.  
  
"If I did, I wouldn't be asking."  
  
One of them stepped forward. He was the tallest, at six and a half feet, overcastting the others.  
  
"We are the YSB Elite." His voice was commanding and vibrant, and it echoed ever so slightly, much unlike the first voice.  
  
"Elite?"  
  
"Got a problem with that? Sue me."  
  
"Take off your hood."  
  
"As you wish."  
  
The man lifted his hands to pull his hood from his head. There was a bold face with long brown hair, shallow, forbidding black eyes, and silken skin. Atop his head was a band of silver engraved with similar symbols as the ones written on the walls of the place. Rain fell on his face, but he was not bothered.  
  
"Now who the **** are you?" Shivan asked.  
  
"Ramza. I am the Lord of the Legends."  
  
"The who?"  
  
"Us! The Legends. We have called you here to speak of a very pressing matter."  
  
"Who else is here?"  
  
Ramza sighed. "I could not assemble the whole of my party. But I have gathered those who would come to protect you during this time, and bear -"  
  
"Who are they?" Shivan interrupted.  
  
"Fine," Ramza conceded. Without looking back, he said, "Stewards?"  
  
The first removed her hood with fine fingers.  
  
There was a woman there, whose eyes sparkled in a fair face, and whose long golden hair hung on her shoulders, illuminating her smooth, pale skin. She was as the sun: terrible and beautiful, and she wore a silver band like Ramza.  
  
"I am Sacred Solar, Second to Ramza." Her voice was fair and musical.  
  
Another removed his hood.  
  
His face was radiant, a dark flare burning in his eyes. As the others, his hair was long, but his was pitch black, darker than even the world around him. His gaze was piercing and it seemed that no command issued from his mouth could be denied. He too wore a silver band on his head.  
  
"I am The Darkshine Knight, Third to Ramza." His voice was deep and harsh.  
  
"Everyone else now," Ramza said.  
  
As one, the entire company revealed their faces.  
  
"I do not recognize them," Shivan said.  
  
"You are not supposed to," Ramza said, adding, "Not now, anyway. Vagrant, Spirit, ns. They will one day have great influence in this world, or so I prophesy. But we did not bring you here to chat about our identities: rather, there is some matter that could wait no longer. We are approaching the end of our age and the coming of another. Gamefaqs and virtual reality will never be the same. A shadow could fall across the world, the world of the conscious, the world of the living. And only you have the power to stop this now." 


	17. Chapter 16

Chapter 16: Heraii  
  
"But why me?" Shivan asked Ramza.  
  
"Because you touch yourself at night."  
  
"No, seriously."  
  
"Because you won the latest UC, and according to a prophecy that I'm making up off the top of my head, that makes you special. Or something. I'm not quite sure. Linux has degraded my brain."  
  
"So how am I supposed to stop this then?"  
  
"First you need the whole story."  
  
Sacred stepped up beside Ramza and began speaking. As her voice fell upon Shivan's ears, he felt himself in a dream, Sacred radiant before his eyes.  
  
"When CJay created the .hack commands, he underestimated their strength. Ns and Ramza were given a string of corrupted code as part of a contest a month ago. They won the contest, identifying the error in the code, and through them we discovered that .hack commands could be manipulated by anyone. A new Administrator from CNET, Retribution Saint, came to power around this time."  
  
Darkshine stepped up as Sacred ceased speaking, and his voice shattered Shivan's dream.  
  
"Saint discovered a greater power to these commands and plotted in secret. CJay, however, discovered his designs, but not before most of the Mods had been corrupted. He came to us for help."  
  
Ramza spoke again.  
  
"We believe that Saint has discovered the YSB's connection to CJay and has empowered the WWESB to destroy it."  
  
"And what is Saint's plan?" questioned Shivan.  
  
"That is not your concern at this time," Ramza replied.  
  
"We were given a chance," Sacred continued, the dream-like state once again returning to Shivan's mind, "to design a weapon from the .hack commands. We decided to use only little of the super-code, fearing that it would corrupt the code around it and be too easy to locate."  
  
"And that weapon is?"  
  
Ramza reached into his cloak and removed a sheathed sword, holding it out on both hands before him in offering. The sheath was black and of silk, winding around the blade of the sword like a stream of water. The pommel was a silver globe. The grip was long, leading to a wide guard adorned with silver at its ends. The blade was over four feet in length.  
  
"Its name is Heraii," Ramza said, handing the sheath to Shivan.  
  
"Heraii?"  
  
"We were bored. And drunk."  
  
Shivan pulled Heraii from its sheath and looked at it for a moment. The blade was smooth gray steel, marked only by its name engraved in ruby at its base. Fire shrouded it and left a red trail in the air as it moved.  
  
As it was revealed, as one, the whole of the gathered drew identical steel swords from their own scabbards with a loud ring.  
  
"There is-" Ramza was cut off. They looked to the right. Darkness had gathered and consumed a portion of the wall, and from it came vile hisses and whispers. Ramza and his entourage raised their swords in defense.  
  
From that blackness emerged three dark shapes. Their cloaks were ripped and thin, revealing patches of darkness from beneath their shells. Hoods were drawn, hiding their faces in shadow: black faces like deep pits. Cruel steel armor covered their legs and arms. Their forms seemed one with the void around them, silky demons of the night.  
  
One walked before the other two, and as he stepped, he drew from his scabbard a pale blade. In his wretched grip it waited, preparing to fall.  
  
There was a shout and a flash of light.  
  
"LAME~!"  
  
A body came hurtling into the foremost shadow, crashing into it and knocking it to the side in a heap. Its sword fell and splintered.  
  
The assailing figure quickly rose. His silver cloak sparkled and shifted about him. It too was of silk. In his hands glowed a steel blade marked with strange designs. A white light came from it. It shook in anger. His eyes were deep and black and his hair long and white. Upon his head was a silver band not unlike the others.  
  
"Ogor?" Shivan asked. "You're not in this fic."  
  
"Get over it," Ogordemir replied. "No one insults the Nazgul like this. Except me."  
  
"RUN!" Ramza yelled as he plunged into the remaining two Shadows. More were coming, and the company rushed to meet them.  
  
Shivan heeded Ramza's order and ran off as quick as his legs would carry him. It wasn't long before he left the sounds of battle behind and was again alone, the silence broken only by the clattering of rain and his footsteps upon the road. He slowed and sheathed Heraii. Up ahead stood a man.  
  
"Hello Shivan," he said. "I've been expecting you." 


	18. Chapter 17

Chapter 17: The Stranger in the Void  
  
"Pastaman?" Shivan guessed, squinting in the darkness at the man before him. His robe was black, his eyes pale, his countenance cold. His expression was one of sorrow, locked away behind a wall of frustration.  
  
"No."  
  
"Um. Deathjester?" Shivan had seen him before, but he could not remember.  
  
"Wrong again."  
  
"What is this? Twenty Questions?"  
  
"My identity is of no concern to you, Shivan of the YSB." The man took a step forward.  
  
"What do you want?"  
  
"Your soul."  
  
"No, no you don't."  
  
"Try me."  
  
He advanced with lightning speed, bearing down on Shivan, brandishing a black knife encrusted with blood.  
  
Shivan dodged the blow and unsheathed Heraii, slamming the flaming blade into the stranger. It struck his cloak and knocked him down. He rolled and stood up a few feet from Shivan.  
  
"You cannot defeat me."  
  
The stranger lunged into Shivan once again, but shivan raised Heraii; the man ran straight into it. The fiery blade pierced cloak and armor, and he went limp.  
  
Shivan threw him off and dashed into the forest, Heraii blazing before him. 


	19. Chapter 18

Chapter 18: Shivan's Return  
  
Shivan ran through the forest. Twigs snapped underfoot as he mercilessly pushed his limits - and as he did so, he thought, how could I? His breath was short. His feet were tiring. And yet, he was within a virtual world without such feelings. Could it be.?  
  
He looked at Heraii. The fire had died and the blade had become plain once again. Could it be that it was the cause of his sudden burst of realization? Could the .hack commands control more than they were supposed to?  
  
It couldn't be. Shivan locked those thoughts in his mind and concluded that it was just his imagination as he burst from the trees and into the clearing. Many of the YSBers were still there, chatting amongst themselves and having a good time. Shivan stood there, watching.  
  
After awhile, Burgess approached him.  
  
"Hey, where ya been?"  
  
"No where," Shivan lied.  
  
".Logged out?"  
  
"Er. Yeah."  
  
"What's that?"  
  
Burgess pointed at Heraii. Shivan hid it behind his back.  
  
"WHAT DO YOU KNOW?" he cried.  
  
"That's my phrase buddy," Burgess said, walking closer and pulling Shivan's hand forward, unveiling Heraii. Its blade glistened in the sunlight. And Shivan felt its warmth.  
  
"Huh." Burgess said, grasping Shivan's hand and holding it up, so that the light shined brighter on the sword. In one motion he pulled it by the blade - and recoiled as his hand was cut. Blood dripped from the edge of the sword as it dropped to the ground and Burgess gasped quietly. He had felt pain.  
  
"What the **** is this thing?" he asked. Shivan picked it up.  
  
"Don't tell anyone," he said, "but Ramza gave it to me. It's supposed to screw with the system. But. I think it's more powerful than I thought."  
  
"Got'cha," Burgess said. Then he turned and shouted, "HEY EVERYBODY! SHIVAN'S GOT THIS NEAT -"  
  
He was cut off as Shivan smote him with Heraii, knocking him to the ground.  
  
"Ah-hem," Shivan said, all eyes upon him, "what Burgess meant to say is that I've got this neat plan." He sheathed his sword and strode towards the stage and climbed atop it, turning to his fellow YSBers.  
  
Crazyace, an overflowing mug of beer bouncing in his hand, shouted, "Do j00 like hot sweaty buttsecks?" before collapsing.  
  
And with that, Shivan began. 


	20. Chapter 19

Chapter 19: Shivan's Plan  
  
"Friends, relatives, drunken rivals," Shivan said, raising his voice. It seemed to envelop the Vale even without amplification. "We are at war, as you may have noticed."  
  
A murmur passed through the crowd, bearing the essence of "duh".  
  
"Right. Well, I have a plan."  
  
"Hence the title of the chapter," Burgess said, bustling himself through the throng and climbing atop the stage next to Shivan. "So, what the ****ing Hell you plotting?"  
  
"Well," Shivan said. "For a limited time -"  
  
"Is this one of those infomercials?" Burgess asked.  
  
"Funny you asked, Burgess! Yes, indeed, and for this short period of time -"  
  
"Your plan is an infomercial?"  
  
"Yes. Deal with it."  
  
"Gimmie The List."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because I'm about to go all Gandalf on your ass and take control of the last defense of the YSB."  
  
"No, no you aren't."  
  
"Do I have to get my big, shiny rod out and stick it up your ass?"  
  
"Y halo thar buttseckslololol!!1!!1!!1!one!1!!1!!" said Brownsound from the crowd.  
  
"Fine, take it.," Shivan said, drawing it from his cloak. It was a worn scroll. The papyrus was old and tinted, torn in corners and definitely not in mint condition. No trades for Shivan. He held it out to Burgess.  
  
"Take it then Mr. Hotshot."  
  
"Nah," Burgess said. "I don't feel like defending anything right now. My sister's trying to get me in bed."  
  
"You stole Vademon's gig."  
  
"Shut up and unfurl the scroll."  
  
Shivan opened it and held it before him.  
  
"There're a bunch of n00bs here."  
  
"Exactly."  
  
"Spies?"  
  
"No, golf clubs. I need to improve my game."  
  
"Right."  
  
Shivan turned towards the assembled and called out, "Is dantes section here?"  
  
"wat u want shiv i ant got no tim fr u i busy," came the response from a midget in the crowd. His body was obstructed, but it was obvious that he was pierced with several arrows, possibly even a few gunshots. No one knew or cared how this had happened.  
  
"That's. Too bad," Shivan said. "Lucifer Duck?"  
  
No reply.  
  
".SupaCaleb?"  
  
Still no reply.  
  
"Shivan," Burgess argued. "If you want to do this correctly, you have to have my madd skillz. WARRAN THAD!"  
  
There came a mumbling sound from the people.  
  
"There's your spy."  
  
Warran perked up.  
  
"I'm not going to assist you," he said.  
  
"I'll give you hookers," Burgess said.  
  
"How about no?"  
  
"Look," Shivan said to Burgess. "This isn't getting anywhere."  
  
Then dantes spoke again.  
  
"i not guna let u us dis weni im gona do it instead cus i colr."  
  
"ENGLISH'D!" said Brownsound again.  
  
"OK, dantes. You go into the WWESB with. Burgess, and report here tomorrow. K?"  
  
"You mean you want me to spend all night with that ass?" Burgess whined.  
  
"Right."  
  
"But I have work."  
  
"Then Templarle will do it. Because I say so."  
  
"**** you , Shivan." Templarle said. He was standing next to Crazyace's unconscious body. "Come on dantes," he said, walking toward him, taking him by the pudgy arm, and leading him towards the forest.  
  
"Thank ****ing God this pathetic excuse for a chapter is over," Burgess spat. 


	21. Chapter 20

Chapter 20: Revolution I  
  
It was night. The YSB was all but deserted. There were no stars in the artificial plane, merely a darker sky and a pale moon, hanging firmly in the sky.  
  
Shiv and Celtic lay next to each other on the grass. Shivan had called this meeting so that he could explain Heraii to Celtic before she turned in for the night.  
  
"What did CJay want?" Celtic asked.  
  
"Straight to business, eh?" Shivan asked.  
  
"I gotta go soon, so pretty much."  
  
"He wanted to give me this." Shivan unsheathed Heraii and handed it to Celtic.  
  
"Why can I feel it?"  
  
"I don't know. It was made with a special code. It has he ability to violate the system."  
  
"Ewwww."  
  
"Not that way."  
  
She put Heraii aside.  
  
"Why'd he give it to you?"  
  
"Actually, Ramza did."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"They think that an Administrator is trying to get rid of the YSB."  
  
"Why wouldn't he just delete it?"  
  
"I guess he's trying to make it look normal, so he doesn't have to explain it."  
  
"Can't CJay stop him?"  
  
"I don't know. But I don't think so."  
  
They didn't talk for some time, then Celtic said: "Do ever wish we could meet in real life?"  
  
".Is this a trick question?"  
  
"No, I'm serious - Hey!"  
  
"What?"  
  
"Touch me."  
  
"."  
  
Celtic turned to face Shivan.  
  
"No, I'm serious!"  
  
She reached out and took his hand.  
  
"Why can I feel you?" Shivan asked.  
  
"I don't know. Do you feel the grass?"  
  
".Odd."  
  
"Shiv."  
  
"Celtic."  
  
She scooted closer to Shivan. Slowly, methodically, she pressed her lips against her forehead and kissed him. Then she pulled back and asked: "Did you feel that?" She was smiling brightly.  
  
".Yes."  
  
Celtic trained her sights back on the night sky.  
  
"When we kissed before, we couldn't feel it. Something's happening."  
  
"Brings a whole new dimension to things, don't it?"  
  
"Good thing I'm not Ameph," Celtic said, "or I would have stabbed you." 


	22. Chapter 21

Chapter 21: Revolution II  
  
"So, dantes, are you really that stupid?" Templarle asked. They were sitting next to the hyperlink that had been created in the WWESB. Hours before, Temp had attempted to get dantes to actually, you know, spy, but he had been stubborn. He decided to at least guard the link. He was playing GunBound most of the time anyway.  
  
"no i went threw s -"  
  
"I heard."  
  
"c?"  
  
"See what?"  
  
"im smrt"  
  
"Yes. Yes, you are."  
  
For a time, Templarle decided to speak to his friends on AIM. Not many of them were on, as it was late. He was surprised he had been allowed to stay on himself. It was something in the distance that caught his eyes, a faint glimmer of movement across an otherwise stagnant plain. He bolted to his feet.  
  
"Do you see that?" he asked dantes. There was no response. Dantes was gone.  
  
"Yes," came a voice from behind his back. He began to turn, but a powerful hand caught him over his mouth and neck. The man pressed a knife against Templarle's throat.  
  
Templarle tried to yell, to protest, to defy this being. "Mmmmff," was all he could say.  
  
"Did anyone ever even suggest that dantes was an ALT?"  
  
Templarle could not respond.  
  
"Did anyone take the time to contemplate that possibility? No. And now here you are, at my mercy."  
  
He let go of Templarle and walked up beside him.  
  
"But I am no enemy."  
  
Now Temp could see him clearly. His cloak was jet black, inlaid with violet silk; his hair was dark and wavy; his eyes were cold, black, and forbidding.  
  
"Who are you?"  
  
"You have never seen this account. Few have."  
  
Templarle checked the guy's ID on his scepter-gone-ID-card. He had 1300 Karma, though his name was blurred.  
  
"You couldn't have gotten that Karma without posting."  
  
"Intelligent."  
  
".So who are you?"  
  
"I was one of the original programmers of this world. My name is Charles Drakford, although my screen name is simply Silencer."  
  
"Ominous."  
  
"Yes, I thought so too."  
  
Templarle turned his eyes back to where he saw the movement.  
  
"Why'd you do that?"  
  
"You mean try to kill you? I was hoping to scare off whoever popped up. But I apparently didn't."  
  
He took several strides forward, and stopped. There was a cold breeze in the air. Gentle tendrils caressed Templarle's cheek and wafted about him.  
  
"Do you feel that?" Silencer asked.  
  
"Yes. What's happening?"  
  
"Let's just say that I'm too late." 


End file.
